


philtatos

by greekachilles (spookynat)



Category: The Iliad - Homer, The Song of Achilles - Madeline Miller
Genre: M/M, anyway, i had to put in the madeline miller tag, i just wanted to do this format, idk where this is going but i am along for the ride, patroclus is pretty and gay, prosthetic achilles, this is all poetry from patroclus' perspective sorry, this is more fic for the iliad but
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-09
Updated: 2017-02-02
Packaged: 2018-08-20 08:14:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 1,306
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8242502
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spookynat/pseuds/greekachilles
Summary: letters from patroclus to achilles after the accident™





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> i got the idea of achilles with prosthetics from another fic, but i promise i'm not copying from them. i respect the author's writing immensely and i in no way intended to plagarise, so if you see something plagarised, PLEASE let me know in a private message or something. okay thanks enjoy

my _philtatos_ ,  
you will never know me  
but i grew up knowing you.

your hair was the most familiar blonde,  
your body the softest bronze  
and your eyes the most inviting jade.

you were a god,  
with divine blood in your veins  
and divine talents to your name.

there was nothing to stop you in the world.  
nothing spoke against you,  
no man nor god could keep you from what you wanted,

but that was until the accident.


	2. Chapter 2

you don't know this,  
_philtatos_ ,  
but i actually cried.

your friends from the school came to the house,  
asking your father for me.  
i think your father was surprised,

but i guess it doesn't matter.  
it was odysseus who told me what happened.  
he said it was a car accident.

is that true,  
_philtatos_?  
were you really crippled by a drunk?

my father was a drunk.  
he was an angry one,  
capable of horrible things.

but that doesn't matter.  
you're okay, right,  
_philtatos_?

odysseus told me you sustained horrible injuries,  
but he wouldn't tell me where.  
i really hope you're okay.

he made it sound as if you lost a limb,  
but that can't be possible,  
right?

you told me you were invincible,  
and nothing could ever hurt you.  
i guess this is the end of that,

huh?


	3. Chapter 3

hi,  
philtatos,  
it's me again.

it's been a few days since i've last written to you.  
you probably don't want to hear from me,  
but i had to let you know

that i still love you,  
even with your missing arm and leg.   
i still love you _philtatos_.

your father is archaic,   
did you know that?  
i told him that i wanted to take the afternoon off,

to visit you in the hospital,  
but he refused,  
ordered me to get back to work.

i asked if he was going to get you prosthetics  
(it's 2016, you know,  
and there are plenty of state-of-the-art prosthetics)

and he refused,  
said you'll find yourself depending on them too much.  
philtatos,

you need them to move,  
don't you?  
you'll depend on them,

because they'll replace your lost limbs.  
i'm sorry,  
it isn't my place to say these things.

i'm sorry for writing,  
but i just wanted you to know,  
i still love you.

i will always love you _philtatos_.


	4. Chapter 4

hey,   
_philtatos_ ,  
how are you?

it's been two weeks since you've been admitted to the hospital,  
and two weeks since i've been made fun of for caring about you.  
your father hasn't made any improvements,

and i know he hasn't been to visit,  
and i know you don't want to be hearing from me,  
especially after the look you gave me when paris called me

'the little gay boy'.   
you were disgusted to think  
that one of your servants was like that.

yet you kept me anyway,   
and i continued to serve your family,   
and here we are now.

you will be fine.  
i have to believe that.   
even though your father won't visit and your mother is scared,

you are still who you were before the accident.  
i'm sorry your father hasn't visited.  
i know you idolised him when you were younger.

so,  
you're being released in a few days.  
you probably don't want to come back here,

to where i am,  
huh?  
i don't know who hit you,

drunk,  
but i know you probably hate me more than you hate whoever it was.   
i'm not daft.

anyway,  
 _philtatos_ ,  
i'll see you when you're released and you return.

i love you.


	5. Chapter 5

hello.   
you returned today,  
took one look at me,

and went to your new room.   
your father made sure to tell me to set it up downstairs,  
so you could at least try to get around.

you're in a wheelchair now,  
and it's almost a painful sight.  
your eyes also seem dead,

the lively jade going dark forest green.   
are you alright,  
 _philtatos_?

that's a stupid question to ask because of _course_ you aren't.   
you lost half of your body in a freak accident.  
fuck,

you were going to go to college for athletics!  
can't happen now,  
can it?

i heard you joking around with odysseus,  
when he came by.   
you were making some joke about your missing leg.

how could you do that?  
you,  
who is so sensitive to your now lost future,

can make _jokes_ about it?  
i would be incredibly depressed,  
but you aren't me,

now are you?  
no.  
but either way,

you couldn't hate me as much as i hate myself.


	6. Chapter 6

it isn't my fault you got into the accident,  
so stop accusing me of it.   
what could i have done?

i barely leave the house except to go to school,   
and i don't have a car,  
and i _certainly_ can't drink,

even if i wanted to.  
i couldn't have been the one to hit you,  
so why are you blaming me?

... is it because i'm gay?  
now that's awfully hypocritical,   
don't you think?

i _saw_ you with odysseus,  
and i _saw_ you with paris,  
and i _saw_ you with hector.

what the fuck,  
 _philtatos_?  
why are you so against me?

why do i even call you _philtatos_?  
why do i write you these stupid letters,  
knowing you'll never read them,

or even hate me for feeling this way?   
there's nothing i can do to make you see me for me,   
so why do i try?

there's this horrible noise ringing in my ear now,  
like the gods are punishing me for being angry at you.   
i'm sorry.

i'm  
so   
sorry.


	7. Chapter 7

uh,  
hey,  
 _philtatos_!

it's been a week or so since you've returned  
and as you know,  
i've been fired.

your father said it was because i was neglecting my duties,  
but i know it's because you asked him to let me go.   
how are the others holding up?

hector?  
briseis?  
... agamemnon?

i'm homeless now,  
did you know?  
i've been sleeping in this park for days.

it's so wrong for me to still be in love with you,  
but i can't help it.  
do you remember the promise we made when we were kids?

you said you would never fire me.   
you said you would protect me.  
what a lie,

huh?  
i'm going to kill myself,  
you know.

i mean,  
what do i have?  
my grades?

that's...  
that's it.  
i can't even be close to you anymore.

but,  
 _philtatos_ ,  
i'm going to drop these few letters off in your mailbox,

and hope that you,  
not your father,  
finds them.

goodbye,  
 _philtatos_.  
i love you.

 _so_ _much_.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> he ain't dead

hi philtatos.

it's been a while. 

i didn't kill myself. 

 

i thought of you at the last moment,

and didn't go through. 

but that's okay,

 

because you came to get me anyway.

i guess you were the one to get the letters from the box,

huh? 

 

thank the gods for that.

i don't know what i would have done

if it wasn't you.

 

but,

maybe,

i should've gone through with it.

 

because you left me at the park,

after firing harsh words at me,

and i just don't know what you

 

expect

from

me.

 

i can't give you anything.

i can't help you with anything.

i don't even know how you got to the park.

 

was it briseis?

we both know she would do

anything for you.

 

or maybe hector?

i'm surprised his pride wouldn't get in the way,

even if you are his master.

 

there's no way it was agamemnon,

because that self-righteous prat would rather

cut off his own foot

 

than help you.

too loyal to your father.

dumb dog.

 

maybe it was someone else who helped,

like odysseus,

or automedon,

 

or even paris or helen.

i don't know why i'm getting

so worked up about this.

 

i just can't imagine anyone helping you,

except

me.

 

i still love you philtatos,

more than i hate myself.

i hope you know that.


End file.
